


show the lights

by Liu



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hanukkah, Jewish Character, Jewish Holidays, Lisa and Mick quietly mourn, M/M, Sharing a Bed, could be read as romance or qpr or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 21:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8684038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liu/pseuds/Liu
Summary: When the Waverider's crew takes a vacation for the holidays, Ray doesn't quite expect to be dragged to Lisa Snart's apartment by his new partner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for AtomWave Week 2016 - Day 1: Festive/Holidays.
> 
> So I saw someone say that Ray was Jewish in some of the comic books... and then I thought Mick would enjoy the Hanukkah candle-lighting, and then I realized Mick would probably go to Lisa's place for holidays (in my headcanons lol), and it kind of spiraled from there.
> 
> Full disclaimer, I tried to do my research, but I don't know everything about Hanukkah so feel free to tell me if I screwed up somehow.

They’re all feeling the effects of a mission (or four) going pear-shaped when Sara declares it’s time for a break. Nobody expects _her_ to be the first one to acknowledge that there are limits to how much crap humans can handle, not with her assassin training and with her usual approach of barreling straight through the problem until it stops being a problem: but there might be a quiet, collective sigh of relief when she marches into the common area of the Waverider, as soon as they’re all patched up from their latest fuck-up slash heroic deed, and tells Gideon to drop them all off in Central City.

Amaya is the only one to voice her doubts about whether or not that’s a good idea, but Sara resolutely marches them into December 24th, 2016, invites Amaya to stay with her for the holidays, and says that they all need to blow off some steam and be with their loved ones or the next mission’s going to end in blood and tears.

Well. _More_ of those.

Ray can’t disagree with the reasoning. He knows Sara misses her sister, and probably wants to spend the holidays with her dad; then there’s Professor Stein and his wife, and Jax’s mother who must be worried sick every day. Nate has been dropping not-so-subtle hints about his parents ever since that time in the 1800s when they couldn’t save all the families involved, and Mick hasn’t said much, but he’s been getting progressively snappier and grumpier, and that’s to no one’s benefit.

Ray, personally, doesn’t have anywhere to go. He volunteers to watch the ship, and when Sara shoots him a knowing look, he manages to come up with an excuse of having to work on his suit if he wants to get it up to speed, or rather, size. They leave him be, and Ray’s silently grateful – but watching them go, one by one, expectant smiles on their faces, still strikes something deep in his chest that makes Ray feel just a little bit lonely. Maybe he could get out there for a few hours – walk through the decorated streets, maybe buy something to eat that hasn’t come out of a 22nd century synthesizer.

Before he can decide on dinner, though, Mick saunters back onto the ship and drops into the captain’s chair without preamble.

“What are you doing?” he asks slowly – Mick has been a little… _volatile_ recently, and Ray doesn’t really want to get a shiner as a holiday present, but he just has to know.

“Going to Keystone,” Mick snaps back, like it should be obvious. “Buckle up, Haircut.”

He sees Mick reach for the control handle, so he does – purely for the sake of safety – then frowns a little.

“Do you even know how to fly this ship?”

Mick shoots him a _look_ – a grimace like that shouldn’t read like a full-fledged sentence, but it does, and it leaves Ray chuckling in embarrassment, shaking his head. Mick does a very good job making them all forget that he _knows_ things, due to having endured the Time Masters’ training, and also due to not being as much of a stupid brute as he pretends to be.

The ride is pretty smooth, all things considered, and it’s not until they land a couple of minutes later that Ray figures out which question he wants answered first.

“Why Keystone? Please tell me you’re not going to steal something.”

Mick shoots him another glare, but it turns into an amused grin in the next moment.

“No. Lisa’s here.”

Ah. Snart’s sister – Ray’s stomach goes queasy, and he would like to think it’s because of the ship’s movements, but they haven’t done any time-jumping and Mick is, perhaps surprisingly, more than alright as a pilot.

Mick pushes himself out of the chair and stalks through the bridge, towards the exit. Ray watches him go and wonders if someone has already told Lisa about her brother’s death, about how much of a hero he was… but then, they all had some time off right after that happened, and while Mick was busy getting back to his old criminal ways, Ray believes he would’ve taken the time to go see the sister of his dead partner, make things right.

In any case, Ray doesn’t really envy the two of them: Christmas time always tends to bring out nostalgia in people, and trying to make holidays happen when someone’s missing in their lives will probably be difficult, for both of them. Ray’s glad that there’s someone Mick can turn to, and he’s glad that Snart’s sister won’t have to brave this time of the year alone, but he can’t help the wistfulness that starts creeping into his heart as he remembers his last Christmas, 1959 and the quaint little house in the suburbs, home-baked cookies that burned three times before they were any good, and a tree with far too many lights that were probably a fire hazard.

They curled up on the sofa and just looked at those lights for what felt like hours. His arm fell asleep under Kendra’s head, and he felt peace deep in his heart, the kind that he has not felt since.

“You coming or what?” Mick snaps him out of his thoughts and Ray blinks for a few seconds before he’s fully back in the present.

“What…?”

“I’m not gonna leave you here to mope,” Mick snorts, like it’s a given, like he’s expected Ray to tag along automatically and now is angry that he had to use actual words. “Get off your ass and let’s go.”

Ray wants to protest, but then he realizes he doesn’t have anything better to do, and an evening with Mick (and Snart’s sister) sounds better than wandering around an empty time ship, trying not to lose his mind.

He gets a coat and a scarf from the fabrication room, and after a moment of thought, gets another scarf for Mick, who gives him an incredulous look when Ray offers the poor piece of clothing.

“It’s cold,” Ray mumbles defensively, feeling a bit stupid standing in front of an invisible ship, holding out a scarf to a guy who obviously doesn’t-

-mind snatching the scarf out of Ray’s hand and wrapping it around his neck. Although he grunts a little bit too much about the process. Ray is reminded of a rebellious six-year-old, and it might be the amusement that warms his chest as they walk towards the busier parts of the city.

It feels nice, to be out in the crisp air, in a world they actually know. Mick makes a few stops along the way, in small bakeries and delis and then a place that sells various holiday-themed trinkets; Ray keeps an eye on him at first, paranoid that Mick’s sticky fingers will get them in trouble, but after Mick not only pays, but also leaves a generous tip at the third store, he lets go of his worries and enjoys the atmosphere filled with tinsel and cinnamon.

He doesn’t even think about buying anything until the last store; Mick gives his paper bag a suspicious look when they walk out into the street again.

“What’s that?”

Ray feels the insane, irrational need to make sure Mick won’t send him back to the Waverider; in the last hour, he’s grown used to the idea of not being alone tonight, and some of the food Mick has bought smells divine. He shrugs and smiles, and wonders if it’s going to be a problem that he wants to bring a little piece of his own traditions to the place where he’s going to be an intruder.

“Um. A candle-holder,” he says, and to his relief, Mick doesn’t inquire further.

“As long as it’s not a singing Santa,” he grumbles resentfully, and Ray wants to know what’s the story behind _that_ , but he doesn’t want to upset the balance of the evening and so he smiles and shakes his head in reassurance, and follows Mick down the street.

The apartment building is neither luxurious nor run-down, and Ray doesn’t know why he was expecting either of the two extremes, but the neighborhood seems perfectly ordinary with its brick buildings and fairy lights twined around the trees. They ring the doorbell and then take the stairs up do the second floor, and that’s how Ray meets Lisa Snart for the first time, startled by the fact that she looks nothing like her brother and yet resembles him in ways that are difficult to put into words.

“Didn’t expect you to show up,” Lisa smirks, clearly talking to Mick – who only shrugs and holds up the plastic bags for her inspection.

“I brought food.”

“In that case, welcome,” she steps out of the doorway and gives Ray a shameless once-over when he passes her on the way in. He smiles, a little, feeling distinctly uncomfortable under the scrutiny, and tries not to stare. Though perhaps the most stare-worthy thing in the apartment is how normal it looks, small but comfortable, with an assortment of throw pillows on the couch and black-and-white artsy photographs lining the walls.

“I’m Ray,” he says, feeling like he should explain, somehow, but Mick must have mentioned him before because she grins at him in a way that spells out ‘I know’. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he adds, and she laughs then, shaking her head until her curls bounce off her shoulders.

“As long as you’re not a screamer, sweetie.”

“What?” he yelps, and Lisa gives him a look that simultaneously reminds Ray of her brother _and_ Sara.

“The walls are really thin and I need my beauty sleep – I’m not gonna listen to you two go at it in my guestroom.”

Ray splutters, and Mick, the traitor, actually laughs: it’s a deep sound, amused and rich and somehow more honest than the few times Ray has heard it before. It makes Ray feel like an intruder again, and he actually considers excusing himself as soon as possible, but then Mick glances at him and his eyes hold a little bit of residual warmth, and Ray thinks that maybe he’ll stay for the dessert, at least.

“Haircut here’s not like that, Lise. We’re just partners,” he says, and hands Ray a bag; Ray figures some help with the food is expected of him, and he carries it to the small kitchen isle, unpacking the boxes one by one.

“I know you think you’re explaining yourself,” she snorts and hands him a plate – they work seamlessly together without even having to look twice, “but you’re really not.”

Mick tries again, over plates loaded with chicken wings, pasta, and several types of tiny sandwiches that look odd but prove to be delicious. Ray can’t say he’s ever had such a wild combination of food on Christmas Eve, but he’s definitely not complaining, even though his stomach might if he doesn’t stop himself from eating more.

As far as the explanation of their partnership goes, Lisa still seems not to believe them, but at least she (mostly) drops the subject, focusing on dessert choices instead. It turns out that her taste in music is pretty similar to Ray’s, and they both hum quietly with Aretha’s Christmas classics while they’re too full to eat any more, even though Mick finds the strength from time to time to complain about ‘old people songs’.

Ray feels like his brain has taken a vacation and all that’s left is lazy warmth spreading through his whole body. He’s sitting on the floor, one hand buried in the fuzzy white rug, leaning against the couch while Lisa tells them something about an internship with some fashion designer, and Ray feels more content than he has in a long, long while. It’s not quite the same as it was with Kendra – he doesn’t think he could spend the rest of his life right here in this room, with Snart’s sister and with Mick, but he does feel welcome and that has to count for something.

He watches the lights woven into the branches of the trees behind Lisa’s windows, and turns to her, suddenly feeling hopeful.  
  
“Hey… would you mind if I lit a candle?”

Lisa raises an eyebrow as if he’s fallen from the sky, and snorts:

“Is it a sexy candle? Because I like you now, but the ban on fucking in my apartment is still firmly in place.”

Ray feels his cheeks go warm at the suggestion, then shakes his head and pushes himself off the floor so he can retrieve the small paper bag he carried from that last shop.

“No, it’s… a tradition. I’m not really Christian.”

There’s a bit of wariness creeping up through the lazy warmth he’s been feeling up until now; it won’t be a big deal if Lisa says no, he’s gone without this particular tradition before, but maybe the sense of comfort has caused nostalgia to sneak up on him and now he really wants to do this, the way he used to do with his mom, when he was younger.

To his surprise, Lisa takes one glance at the item in his hand and snorts:

“You should’ve said you meant a menorah. You can put it over there,” she waves at the small table underneath one of the windows, then glances at him and asks, without smirking, without teasing: “Or, if you’d prefer to do it in private, you can put it in the guest room?”

He’s taken aback by her understanding, but he doesn’t ask, too overwhelmed to speak for a moment. Then, he smiles and shakes his head:

“No, I remember this being a family moment, you know, with people around. I’m not really… I don’t… I mean, my mom was Jewish, and I just. I wanted to do this, tonight.”

He feels a little bit stupid, because he’s just basically said that he wants to keep up with a tradition of a faith he doesn’t truly observe – but Lisa and Mick both look at him like they understand, at least a little. And then Mick gets to his feet and brushes his hands off on his jeans, and shrugs:

“We all got our thing. No need to stick to some stupid rules, yeah? Not like you’re supposed to light those today either, right?”

Ray blinks at that, but before he can answer, Lisa stretches her hands over her head and gets up as well.

“Actually, today’s the right day, this year.”

“How do you know?” Ray blurts then, because even he wasn’t exactly sure about this year’s Hanukah, and judging by the rest of the apartment (and the tiny plastic Christmas tree on Lisa’s table), he didn’t think that _she_ would.

She gives him a look that seems to weight two tons, and then exchanges another one with Mick. Ray thinks he might’ve stumbled onto a minefield of sensitive topics, but then, Lisa gives him a small, tight smile, eyes a little too bright.

“Lenny’s mom was Jewish, too. We used to light the menorah at our grandpa’s house, before he passed. And a few times when we were older – when Lenny managed not to land himself in the slammer for the holidays.”

Ray expects the atmosphere to turn heavy as they remember the man they’ve lost; his own heart hurts a little bit at the thought that Leonard Snart sacrificed _this_ , being with the people who clearly loved him very much, to save the team, and by proxy, the world.

They set the menorah by the window, and Lisa gives him an expectant look that makes Ray smile sheepishly:

“I know a prayer comes before this, but… I don’t really remember the words.”

“What do we have Google for?” she smirks, and they hunch over her phone to read the simple, powerful words of the prayer. Ray startles a little when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and then Mick’s rough voice is joining them, his pronunciation more than a little off, but it’s the effort that counts and that makes Ray smile through it, the words resonating in his chest in a way he remembers from childhood, back when he listened to his mother’s voice, in awe of the dignified feeling of that moment.

Lisa wraps her fingers around Ray’s hand as they hold the first candle and light the second one; they look at the dancing lights for quite a while, and when Ray turns his head, he’s struck by how reverent Mick looks, staring into the tiny flickering flames. There’s none of the usual mania in his eyes, just… peace, or maybe a little bit of melancholia. Ray doesn’t say a word, but he leans in, pressing their shoulders together, and when Mick doesn’t push him away, Ray can’t help but smile into the candlelight.

Lisa kisses Mick’s cheek with her ‘goodnight’, and Ray doesn’t expect it, but she leans over towards him, too.

“Thank you,” she whispers – maybe because she doesn’t want to break the tranquil atmosphere that has descended over her apartment like a warm, fuzzy blanket, or maybe she can’t speak out loud, because her eyes are a little too bright. “It would’ve felt weird to do this without Lenny… but I’m glad we could, you know.”

She kisses his cheek too, and then disappears in her bedroom.

“More pie?” Mick asks after a while, and Ray’s stomach feels like it’s going to explode if he even _looks_ at something sweet, but he doesn’t want to go to bed yet, so he fights through a slice as best he can and doesn’t protest much when Mick huffs at him about playing with food and steals Ray’s plate to finish the leftovers.

Lisa’s guestroom only has one bed, large enough to comfortably hold two grown men, but Ray still stammers about taking the couch for a while, before Mick snorts and tells him to stop being dumb. Ray slips under the fresh sheets then and takes a deep breath – it’s been a while since he’s slept in a bed that smelled fresh and nice, as opposed to just being sterile. Mick’s weight next to him is like a physical presence, and Ray turns his head to the other man, an overflow of gratitude squeezing his throat just a little.

“Thanks,” he mumbles in the dark, and the word doesn’t really say everything that he feels, but he can’t think of any better way to say it. “Will you stay here? Before we’re called back, I mean.”

“You in a hurry to get out, Haircut?”

Ray blinks into the shadows and wishes that Mick’s back wasn’t turned to him, so that he could at least try and make out Mick’s expression. “Um… no? But I thought…”

“I meant it when I said I was looking for a partner. Doesn’t just mean for the fights.”

“Oh,” Ray breathes, and he wonders what _did_ it mean, what else that he wasn’t aware of when he said yes. The implications make his head spin, and he doesn’t necessarily want to go back on… anything, really, it just feels like he’s standing on the precipice of something unnamed and he still can’t wait to take the leap.

“For fuck’s sake, I can hear those little wheels in your head turning. Go to sleep, Ray,” Mick grumbles, not unkindly, and that’s probably as good as Ray will get out of the man. Right now.

He still feels a smile on his lips before he drifts off.

Ray wakes up with Mick’s limbs draped over him like an overgrown octopus, suffocating just a bit under the weight and the heat, and he grins at the ceiling, trying to stay still in order not to disturb Mick’s quiet snores.

This might not be the best holidays Ray’s ever had, but it’s shaping up to be a nice time, nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://pheuthe.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
